


Love Box

by orangeunnie



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nyongtory, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:33:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeunnie/pseuds/orangeunnie
Summary: Seungri threw away his key.





	Love Box

**Author's Note:**

> Just made the connection today that Seungri's Love Box lyrics are quite GRi. Enjoy!

The day that Seungri lost the key was a Thursday, at half past four in the morning, the sky still hanging onto it’s darkness. If he listened closely he could hear a taxi door shutting, the muffled laughs and yelps of a group on their way home from the bars, and the distant howl of a dog. But that was not what woke him. Somewhere beneath his pillow, his cell phone buzzed, the vibration tickling his ear through the pillow. He normally turned it on silent during the night otherwise people would be calling him at all hours from around the globe - his connections were no joke. So a phone call in the middle of the night meant it could only be from one of a handful of people he deemed important enough to answer to when he should be sleeping. 

 

Blindly feeling around for the incessant source of his awakeness, he pulled the offending device out and held it up above him, bleary eyes squinting at it’s bright light. Seungri sighed, cleared his throat, and answered.

 

“Hyung?”

 

There was a silence on the other end save for the soft sound of someone’s breathing. For a moment Seungri wondered if perhaps Jiyong had called him in his sleep - it had happened before - until he heard a long inhale that he new would be followed by some impossible question. 

 

“Is the world ending?” Jiyong’s voice was low, slightly hoarse...and almost panicked? Seungri revved his brain, preparing for the worst. 

 

“What’s wrong... Are you alright, hyung? Is everyone okay?”

 

He was already sitting up now, waiting for a response to tell him whether he should put his slippers on, or forego all manner of practical clothing and grab his car keys.

 

“I’m fine...I’m in Paris. I just wanted to know what you thought.”

 

Seungri let out a slow breath, now realizing his heart was racing. He leaned back against his headboard. 

 

“Well, I’m assuming it hasn’t ended yet. I’m talking to you right now, and I was just sleeping a few minutes ago. Unless I still am and this is just a dream. In that case, what are you doing dream calling me?”

 

Jiyong chuckled on the other end. Seungri didn’t miss the sniff that came first. 

 

“I don’t quite know myself,” Jiyong replied. Another voice traveled through Seungri’s phone, soft, light and in a language he didn’t know. Jiyong seemed to read his mind. “Sorry, just the TV, I’ll turn it down.”

 

“You do know it’s 4:30 in the morning here…” Seungri mentally calculated the time zone difference; it was only early evening in Europe, a whole world away from Seoul.

 

“Oh right. I’ll let you go back to sleep..”

 

“No, it’s okay, hyung. I’m up now anyway.”

 

“Thanks..”

 

Seungri could tell that Jiyong had something on his mind but he didn’t pressure for an explanation and instead waited for Jiyong to offer it himself. It didn’t take very long of them both quietly listening to the light static of distance between them before Seungri got his answer. 

 

“I really am sorry for waking you, Seungri, I just needed to talk. I’m jet lagged as hell and the wine at dinner hit me harder than I was expecting.”

 

Seungri let out a knowing ‘ahh’. Drunk Jiyong was usually happy, _ tired _ and drunk Jiyong was another being altogether. One who seemed to come out from somewhere deep inside Jiyong’s slender body.

 

“Anyway, I just wanted to talk. I….wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a while.”

 

“It has.” Seungri slid his body back down into his mattress but kept the phone at his ear. “When will you be back?”

 

“I think Saturday. Or it might be Sunday there.”

 

“We should have dinner.”

 

“Mmm, that would be nice.”

 

Seungri’s eyes slipped closed. 

 

“I should let you go, I shouldn’t have called so late.”

 

“S’alright,” Seungri said, voice now slurring with sleep, “I don’t mind when it’s you.”

 

Jiyong chuckled again and Seungri heard fabric rustling. He pictured Jiyong mirroring him in bed, probably wearing some old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants between expensive silk sheets. His hair would be tucked into his ridiculous knitted headband and his skin would be smoothly shaven. Seungri could almost smell his soap and cologne.

 

“Goodnight, hyung.”

“Good morning, Seungri.”

 

Seungri’s key was somewhere in Paris.

  
  


> _ It’s small but I put our love here _
> 
> _ Just with my heart that loved you, it’s very heavy _

  
  
  
  


“Why are you wearing that?” Jiyong was squinting at him, brow furrowed as he analyzed Seungri’s outfit. He looked down at his sweater, some red Gucci one that Jiyong had bought him two seasons ago. He thought Jiyong would remember it.

 

“I like the color.”

 

Jiyong walked around him, appraising, before poking him rather hard in the stomach.

 

“You’ve gained weight,” he said, the words leaving a phantom pain that throbbed. “It doesn’t fit you right anymore.”

 

Seungri stumbled with his words, not quite sure of how to reply. He knew he had slacked off lately with the gym and diet, but he wasn’t preparing for a solo comeback like Jiyong was. Unfortunately for the other, it also showed. 

 

“Yeah, well, you’ve  _ lost _ weight. Too much, hyung, you’re skin and bones.” 

 

No manner of baggy clothing and thick jackets could hide the fact that Jiyong had thinned out more than he’d ever been. Seungri doubted there was a single inch of fat left on him. It made his heart crack more painfully than the poke had to his pride. Jiyong remained unphased though, or at least appeared to be. He had already gone back to what he was doing at the table in the studio. Seungri cringed as he watched the neon felt tip of the marker touch the leather bag that was laid out, which probably cost more than his entire wardrobe. 

 

That same night, Jiyong kissed him. It had happened suddenly and without thought; neither had been very interested in the movie that was playing on Jiyong’s TV. He’d invited Seungri back to his place after they had been kicked out of the studio by the cleaning staff, and after a heated discussion on what to do, they had decided to order a delivery of fried chicken and beer and find something to watch. Seungri had picked some B-side comedy and it hadn’t taken long for him to realize that Jiyong’s attention was elsewhere. 

 

It started with a few touches, a slight brush of a finger on Seungri’s forearm. Then Jiyong was leaning into him, drowsy and full from their greasy meal. His hand had eventually wandered it’s way beneath the hem of Seungri’s sweater, warm fingertips tickling the dark hairs on his belly and sending shockwaves up his spine. 

 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Jiyong mumbled, curled up into Seungri’s side; a warm, bony lump. “It looks good on you. It’s cute.”

Seungri was about to question what exactly looked cute, when Jiyong pinched his skin, hard. Seungri gasped in surprise and immediately sucked in a breath when Jiyong’s hand traveled upward and began playing with his nipple. The cool air of the room tingled on his exposed skin until suddenly Jiyong was blocking it, pushing him over and further into the sofa. Seungri could feel the heat rising between his legs, but his shock was too much to act on it. Jiyong was straddling him now, his hands pressing on his chest as he leaned down and pressed his lips to his own. 

 

Jiyong was both soft and hard, like liquid one moment and a mess of sharp points and angles the next. Seungri couldn’t think beyond the feeling of Jiyong’s soft lips, the taste each time the elder’s tongue slipped between his teeth, and the sensation of what was happening below. He was sure Jiyong could feel it and Seungri didn’t know if he should be ashamed or proud; he didn’t know if he wanted it to stop or if he wanted more. All he could do was let Jiyong do what he does best. Lead.

 

Seungri felt like a puddle of melted ice cream when Jiyong had finally let him breathe. The silence hung between them, the movie having ended and the screen now sitting patiently on the menu, prompting them to make a decision. 

 

‘ _ Do you wish to exit? _ ’

 

_ No _ , Seungri thought,  _ never _ . 

 

> _ I decorated it with a ribbon that you liked _
> 
> _ I put the scent that you like on it too _
> 
> _ In case you come back to me, in case you come back to me _
> 
> _ Come back to me again, come back to me again _
> 
> _ You, again _

  
  
  
  


Seungri was sure that Jiyong was avoiding him. He would be if he was Jiyong too. That night was something, everything, a dream that couldn’t possibly be real. Reality was proving him right. 

 

_ -Are you busy? _

 

_ -Yes, Seungriyah, I have rehearsals.  _

 

_ -Can I come watch? _

 

_ -No _

 

_ \- :( _

 

_ [Read] _

 

Seungri threw himself into his businesses, opening up two new restaurants that week. He traveled to Daejon and Gwangju for both ribbon cuttings. And then he took off to Singapore on the weekend. He drank himself silly one night, not even remembering how he got back to his hotel room. The hangover was wicked and it was noon before he even considered leaving the bed. He popped a few painkillers, washed his face, and hit the city again. His DJ set the second night lasted an hour longer than planned. It wasn’t until he returned to Seoul on Monday that he checked his phone again. 

 

_ [Read: 6 days ago] _

 

> _ I need to forget you but I couldn’t erase everything yet _
> 
> _ I hate myself just at the fact that I let you go _
> 
> _ I dressed in the clothes that you liked _
> 
> _ I stand alone at the place you left me _
> 
> _ In case you come back to me, in case you come back to me _

  
  
  


“I fucked up, Seungri. I fucked up again, this is all my fault.”

 

Seungri stared at his friend, his leader, his everything. 

 

“I didn’t mean to do it again, I swear, it’s just…. We had a fight and I was angry. I didn’t mean to...”

 

“Shhh,” Seungri soothed, taking the smaller man into his arms and rubbing his back. He could feel wet sobs soaking into his shirt. “It’ll be okay, we’ll get through this again.”

 

“This is the end, I know it. Th-they won’t forgive me this time!”

 

Seungri didn’t know what to say to that. He knew a storm would be coming, possibly by tomorrow morning. The articles would hit, the comments would come in like tidal waves, drowning out all logic and reason. Seungri wished he could step in front and take the bullets, he wished he could mold around and protect him like armour, he wished, he wished, he wished..

 

But there was nothing he could do.

 

“Seungriyah….please… what do I do. I can’t..I can’t do this again.”

 

He felt his own tears well up amidst Jiyong’s wailing and fought to keep them from falling this time. This time he would be strong.

 

“I don’t know, hyung, I don’t know..” He squeezed Jiyong harder. “Maybe they’ll be more understanding this time though, maybe nothing will happen at all.”

 

“Bullshit,” Jiyong spat. “That’s bullshit. You know I just signed my own death sentence.”

 

“Jiyong-ah!” 

 

The sobbing stopped. Seungri’s voice was ringing in their ears. He had never spoken up to his hyung like that before. 

 

“Hyung,” he said again, just as firm but not as loud. “You don’t know what will happen and neither do I. But we will get through this. We  _ will _ get through this. Together. I promise it will be alright and even if it’s not,  _ I _ forgive you. You’re my hyung, we’ve known each other for years, you’re strong and brave and confident. You can do this again and I will be right here beside you for as long as it takes. Promise me,  _ promise _ , you won’t do anything stupid because of this. I’m begging you.”

 

Jiyong was silent but Seungri could feel him shaking in his arms. He didn’t dare let go or look him in the face yet. He needed to understand. As if to drive home the point, Seungri pulled him in even closer, pressing his head to his chest, his heart beating hard. The smell of Jiyong’s shampoo filled his nose. 

 

They sat there for another hour, maybe longer, saying nothing as Jiyong clung to Seungri like a life line, a buoy drifting in the raging sea. Eventually his breathing evened out and Seungri realized that Jiyong had cried himself to sleep. Gently, he picked him up, his light frame tucked safely in Seungri’s arms, and carried him into his own bedroom. He laid him out and pulled up the covers, then sat on the floor while he watched Jiyong’s chest rise and fall. His cheeks were red and puffy, as were his closed eyes, so Seungri went to his ensuite and got a cool cloth. He returned and gently dabbed it around Jiyong’s face, wiping the streaks of dried tears away and holding it against his flushed skin. If he could keep him here, protect him from the outside world, he would in a second. 

A while later, when the sun fell in the sky and cast rays of orange and pink on the walls, Seungri’s phone buzzed. 

 

- _ Is Jiyong with you? He didn’t come home. _

\-  _ Yeah, he’s with me.  _

 

> _ The person to wipe your tears _
> 
> _ The person to hug you when you’re sick _
> 
> _ That was me, who was by your side _
> 
> _ But now, I send you off to that other person _
> 
> _ Please be well _
> 
> _ My love, my everything _

  
  
  


The box was closing around Seungri’s heart. He could feel each wall building up, being hammered and bolted together.

 

“We’re getting married, Seungri, next Spring.”

 

“Congratulations!” Seungri replied, his enthusiasm belying his mood. He looked at the couple, at Jiyong and the pretty woman beside him across the table. Seungri liked her, Jiyong had been dating her for a while, but he never thought it would get this far. 

 

Jiyong slid the invitation across the table, a huge grin on his face. “We were wondering if you could perform for us. You know, your famous wedding version of Strong Baby.”

 

Seungri nodded. He felt the lock click into place. “I’d be honored.”

 

The two men stood up and shook hands and hugged. They called for a bottle of Champagne. Seungri even toasted the engaged couple - he downed the bubbly liquid in one go.

 

He walked by the Han River on his way home. The key was burning a hole in his pocket, it seared his skin and poisoned him. The sharp edges bit into his palm until he felt the skin break. 

 

Seungri threw the key as far as he could, the small plop of it landing in the water, and then it was gone. 

 

It had never been his to begin with.

  
  


> _ Even if the world ends, my dear, can you hear me? _
> 
> _ Even if it’s the end, please smile, only you _
> 
> _ This melody sounds sadder especially today _

  
  


_ Love Box _


End file.
